


I Stand Corrected

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, LBGTQ Activism, M/M, Modern AU:University, One-Shot, Rampant smartphone use, interruptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 17:33:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in response to this: http://enjolraswould.tumblr.com/post/46299602621/grantairewould-grantaire-would-constantly</p>
<p>"Grantaire would constantly google on his smart phone to find factual errors in Enjolras's speeches and interrupt to correct them." "Enjolras would find this really annoying while it was happening, but would secretly be grateful for Grantaire catching his mistakes."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Stand Corrected

**Author's Note:**

> Written at the request of Tumblr user [notanearlyadopter](http://notanearlyadopter.tumblr.com/) in response to this [Grantaire Would/Enjolras Would](http://enjolraswould.tumblr.com/post/46299602621/grantairewould-grantaire-would-constantly).
> 
> This is basically the first time Grantaire has decided to interrupt Enjolras's meeting. Thought of doing this as pre-E/R but decided on established E/R because I'm lazy and it was easier to not have to explain things. Set about two weeks ago (before the US Supreme Court hearings on Prop. 8 and DOMA).
> 
> All typos are mine; anything else doesn't belong to me!

It was a typical Wednesday night in the Musain, with the Friends of the ABC meeting in their usual upstairs room. The group – an LBGTQ rights organization that had started on campus but had spread to include any interested parties – was meeting to discuss the upcoming Supreme Court hearings on Prop. 8 and DOMA.

Enjolras stood at the front of the room, examining his notes one final time to prepare himself. Thanks to his midterms, he had hardly had time to memorize his notes the way he usually did, though he was fairly confident that he would remember all the important information.

His eyes flicked around the room, seeing if they were all there. It was a smaller gathering tonight, just an informational meeting about planning a protest for when the Supreme Court heard the oral arguments. His gaze lingered on Grantaire, lounging as usual in the back, but this time, instead of a bottle clutched in his fist – though there was one on the table in front of him – his cell phone was in his hand, and he was staring intently down at it. Enjolras wasn’t sure whether he should be concerned or not, but decided it was such an improvement from normal that he really shouldn’t complain.

Instead, he started the meeting, launching straight into his speech about the unconstitutionality of Proposition 8. He made it through without much difficulty, but things took a turn when he moved on to DOMA.

He had gotten through probably a third of what he had prepared – mentally, at least; he never wrote down speeches beforehand, preferring an extemporaneous approach – when it started. He was thundering, “Since October of 1996 this oppression has been legalized”, when his phone suddenly vibrated loudly on the table.

It was enough to cause him to lose track of where he was, and he took a deep breath before restating, “Since October of 1996”, when his phone buzzed again.

Courfeyrac was grinning as Enjolras blushed; he had yelled at Courfeyrac not two nights prior for allowing his cell phone to disrupt the meeting (though in fairness, Courfeyrac’s “Call Me Maybe” ringtone was a bit more distracting than the buzz of Enjolras’s). Enjolras quickly pocketed his cell phone, trying to restore his face color to normal. “As I was saying, in October 1996—” his phone buzzed again and he pointedly ignored it “since October of 1996—”

“It’s September.”

All heads in the room swiveled to stare at Grantaire, still lounging in his chair, a small smile on his face as he looked at Enjolras. “I beg your pardon?” sputtered Enjolras, completely thrown off by the interruption.

Grantaire just grinned, as if reveling in Enjolras’s discomfort. “The Defense of Marriage Act was enacted September of 1996. September 21, to be exact.”

“Where did you get that from?” snapped Enjolras, combing his mind for the factoid to see if Grantaire was correct.

Grantaire’s grin grew wider. “It’s called ‘Wikipedia’. Surely even a marble god such as yourself has had to deign to use the commoner’s encyclopedia at some point. And since I have this handy thing known as a smart phone…”

Looking down quickly so that the others would not see the angry flush that rose in his face, Enjolras dug through his papers to find one with the stats on it that he had tried to memorize before the meeting began. Sure enough, it was September, not October, and Enjolras ground his teeth audibly. "I stand corrected. Grantaire is right."

"What was that, Apollo?" called Grantaire, grinning. "I didn't seem to catch what you just said there."

The look on Enjolras's face could only be described as thunderous. “You were correct; I was mistaken,” he snapped, his voice curt. “Moving on…” He glanced briefly down at the paper in front of him, completely thrown off the momentum of his speech. “Since September of 1996, section 3 of DOMA has unfairly discriminated against the almost 8 million LBGTQ individuals in the United States—”

“9 million.” Again Grantaire’s voice cut across the room, though this time he didn’t bother looking up from his cell phone. “Roughly.”

This time Enjolras didn’t even look at his notes. “ _9 million_ individuals, then, and should be ruled as unconstitutional. The precedent established in _Evans v. Romer_ demonstrates that DOMA has intruded too far into the lives of citizens—”

Enjolras didn’t know why he was surprised that Grantaire piped up again. “It’s _Romer v. Evans_.”

“Regardless,” barked Enjolras over the titters that had erupted following Grantaire’s latest interruption, “support for gay marriage has been growing and now 51% of Americans support gay marriage, with 44% opposed.”

“43%.” This time, the gloat was clear in Grantaire’s voice, and the entire group fell apart with laughter at the look on Enjolras’s face.

Combeferre quickly took over. “The time is right for us to march in support of gay marriage when the Supreme Court hears oral arguments on the two cases presented to it. Enjolras and I—” he looked sideways at Enjolras, who was still seething silently “—will arrange the details and let you know exactly what’s planned sometime this week.”

Everyone dispersed following that, save for Enjolras, who seemed glued to his chair, his glare still affixed on Grantaire. Combeferre clapped Enjolras on the shoulder, and Enjolras managed to call across the room, “Grantaire, stay behind for a moment.”

“Ooo,” said Courfeyrac with a wicked grin before Jehan yanked him out of the room.

Grantaire stood and stretched languidly, amusement lighting his eyes. “Yes, Apollo? Whatever can I do for you?”

Enjolras tried to arrange the scowl on his face into more neutral an expression. “While I certainly appreciate your newfound enthusiasm for our cause,” he said, picking his words carefully, “I would greatly appreciate if you could perhaps wait until after the meeting to correct all of my mistakes.”

“Why?” asked Grantaire, blinking innocently at him. “Were you embarrassed, dear Apollo? To be called out on your faults so publicly?”

Clenching his jaw again, Enjolras hissed between his teeth, “It has nothing to do with me being embarrassed, only with the fact that you distracted from the speech that I was trying to give—”

“Ah,” said Grantaire, amused, “but what good is your speech if the facts in it are incorrect?”

“The facts are not the most important part, though of course they are vital!” Enjolras growled, stepping close enough to Grantaire that their faces were practically only inches apart. “The important part is inspiring the people so that they will get involved with the cause, and if I happen to fumble a few numbers here and there, damn it, I am only human and will have plenty enough time to rectify my mistakes in future conversations with them.”

Grantaire just grinned up at Enjolras, completely unconcerned by how close Enjolras's face was to his. “Never did I think I would hear you say that the facts were not the most important part of anything, with as much research as you do into all of this.”

Enjolras threw his hands up into the air in frustration. “That’s hardly the point! And would you be serious for just one minute, Grantaire?”

Grantaire smiled sweetly. “As you wish, dear Apollo, though perhaps you should take a deep breath and calm down. After all, I did warn you."

"What are you talking about?" snapped Enjolras.

Still grinning lazily, Grantaire cocked an eyebrow. "I take it you haven't checked your phone."

Enjolras frowned and pulled his phone out. Sure enough, he had plenty of missed texts.

The first few were from Joly, apologizing for missing the meeting – he was pretty sure he was coming down with something, and spent the next several messages listing all the diseases he could possible have contracted – but—there. A string of texts from Grantaire.

_Wrong._

_Still wrong._

_Keep using this incorrect date and I will have to correct you out loud_

_Really, Apollo, you're asking for me to correct you._

_Just don't say I didn't warn you..._

Enjolras closed his eyes for a brief moment. "You did warn me," he conceded.

The smile on Grantaire's face did not change, though something in his eyes softened. "Told you so."

Ducking his head slightly, Enjolras sighed deeply and said, as if it pained him, "I'm sorry." Then, even quieter, so that Grantaire had to strain to hear him, "And thank you."

"For what? For having the audacity to correct you to your face?"

Enjolras smiled wanly, "Yes, for that. Believe it or not, you are probably the only one willing to do so, and as much as it pains me to admit, I am not infallible, and the only way to truly learn is to have one’s mistakes corrected. Although there is perhaps a better venue for correcting me than in front of everyone.

“But that aside..." He hesitated for a brief moment, something like doubt flickering in his eyes. "You can laugh it off as you just trying to piss me off, and you'd undoubtedly be half-right, but the fact that you listened, that you looked all those things up on your phone...You can't tell me that you still don't care about this."

This statement was rife with the undertones of a long fought argument, but for once, Grantaire did not try and laugh it off. Instead, he looked at Enjolras seriously. "I guess you're rubbing off on me."

Smiling wider, Enjolras laced his fingers through Grantaire's. "And you've been rubbing off on me. For that I have to thank you, too." He leaned in and kissed Grantaire lightly on the lips. "But interrupt me during a meeting again," he whispered against Grantaire's lips, causing the dark-haired man to shiver in anticipation, "and I won't be so forgiving."

"Yes, Apollo," said Grantaire meekly, but his pupils were blown wide and the hint of a smirk was lingering on his lips, belying what he said.

Enjolras glared at him, though a smile was playing at the corners of his mouth as well. "If you're not going to behave," he growled, "I may have to punish you preemptively." He kissed Grantaire again, harder this time, biting Grantaire's lower lip hard enough to elicit a moan from Grantaire.

Then Enjolras leaned back, so suddenly that Grantaire almost whimpered at his sudden absence. "Come on," he said, tugging on Grantaire's hand. "Let's go home."

As they left the Musain, still hand in hand, Grantaire said conversationally, his eyes twinkling with unspoken laughter, "You realize that you haven't really given me any incentive to stop interrupting your meetings. Especially not if this is going to be my 'punishment'."

"Hmmm," said Enjolras thoughtfully. "Well, I guess when we get home I'll have to try something else."

Now it was Grantaire's turn to tug on Enjolras's hand as he sped up, eager to get home to see just what other incentives Enjolras had in mind.

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally the fluffiest thing I have ever written.


End file.
